Here's a couple...
One intense experience occurred in 1998, while driving up the Kansas Turnpike toward Wichita. Twelve counties were warned on, and people were under every overpass. Night had fallen and the rain was pounding really hard. Near as the spotters could make out in almost zero vis, a twister was reported in Wellington and Bell Plaine. I went into the Kansas Information Center on I35. The place was deserted, but I knew that the twister had already passed east based on spotter reports – whatever they could make out in the dark. I entered the building and walked down a dark hallway. I found all the people, they were holding onto pipes under the counters in the restrooms. They asked me if I wanted to “hide out†with them. After observing what the building was made out of—steel trusses and plate glass, I said “No thank you†and opted for constant monitoring of the situation instead. I ended up in Wichita.
Intense experience number two…a gnarly night chase from Johnson to Ulysses Kansas. I love lightning, but this was something of Thor having a tantrum. CGs were pounding right outside the car, and I pulled over briefly, only to observe telephone lines near Sublette crackling and popping overhead. Yikes. Later, when I got to a truck stop in Liberal, the sheriff walked into the cafe and said that trailer homes in Ulysses had overturned and were lying upside-down in the highway. They had been flipped onto Highway 160 just after I passed by there. I was trying to negotiate a line training out of Dalhart TX (I had stopped at the sheriff’s office in Johnson for a look at radar). Looking back, with the lightning, the flooding, and reports of funnels near Sublette, that night jaunt to Liberal on the open prairie might not have been the wisest move. However, I did get in about 4 hours of lightning photography and lit-up shelf clouds.
People often ask me if I’ve ever had any close calls with lightning. I had two experiences when I was first learning in the mid 90s. One happened in Fort Bowie, Arizona on a primitive road near the Chiricahua Natl Monument in the far SE corner of the state. I was inspecting an unbelievably huge grasshopper (it was almost as long as my sunglasses) and taking its picture. A CG struck very nearby in the daytime. Lightning can look deceptively tame in the daylight, but it is no less dangerous. The other time was on the Fourth of July. I believe it was in 1997. I was in Marana, Arizona north of Tucson. A storm in the Central Deserts erupted but then died down all of a sudden. Disappointed, I thought it was game over, wrote it off and started shooting the desert sun setting over distant mountains. All of a sudden THWACK a huge feather bolt cascaded over my head. You never saw me move so fast in all your life! Then the storms kicked up their heels in a serious way, pelting the desert with CGs and weird looking spider-web air strikes overhead. My heart was pumping fast, as I finished the chase and ended somewhere hear "A" Mountain in Tucson. Moral of these two stories…my lightning close calls happened both times when I was focusing on something else. I have heard the Tohono O’Odham Indians of Southern Arizona say that when you walk through the desert, don’t be looking up and around at the scenery…look at your feet and where you are walking. I adapted that to a rule of my own, when you’re chasing…don’t get distracted by the scenery…always keep your eyes on your storm, until its absolute last breath.
A couple other intense experiences…I had a CG hit a transformer at close range in Scottsdale…causing one bright green explosion! That was very intense. Another time (and I won’t elaborate because I promised him I would never write about it) a Del City 5/3/99 tornado survivor told me his incredible stories. All I can tell you from this is whatever you do, never take your loved ones for granted.
Here’s a memorable moment I’ll never forget, my first-time meeting with a very happy Al Moller…in a cornfield under this…in Royal, Nebraska. Happy chasing
